


Photographic Evidence

by TurtleTotem



Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: COVID-19, Coronavirus, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Pandemics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem
Summary: The kinds of photographs Bran keeps in his office.
Relationships: Charles Cornick/Anna Latham
Comments: 23
Kudos: 89





	Photographic Evidence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AristoKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AristoKitty/gifts).



> Based on a conversation with AristoKitty, who probably came up with about half the lines!  
> Also on Tumblr [here](https://turtletotem.tumblr.com/post/613940655115452416/photographic-evidence).

Part 1

A pandemic wasn't good news for anyone, not even the werewolves. They themselves were immune, thank all the gods, but general instability and panic always backlashed against those who were different. Rumors persisted that the disease that had been released by the fae; it wasn't true, as far as Bran knew, and an amateur to the game might have thought that had nothing to do with the wolves anyway. But Bran knew that too many people still lumped all 'supernaturals' together in their minds, even if only unconsciously.

Fortunately, the wolves' complete immunity to contracting or carrying the disease gave them an opportunity to improve public relations. It wasn't hard at all for Bran to fill the newspapers with snapshots of werewolves bringing groceries to retirement homes, volunteering at hospitals, providing childcare for essential workers…

And Samuel Cornick, the only known werewolf doctor, finally got to shine as he deserved.

Bran wasn't there, of course, at the rural Chinese hospital where stricken children from miles around had been gathered. On the whole, the virus was less severe in children, and few of them were in danger. All of them, however, were scared and sick and separated from their parents, not all of whom would be coming back, and the doctors in their necessary but ugly protective gear were not the most comforting presence. The way Bran heard it, Samuel's fellow doctors were horrified when he stripped off all his gear to pick up a toddler who hadn't stopped crying for hours, and had her calmed within a minute.

Samuel hadn't been out as a werewolf until that moment. The Chinese wolves, Bran thought—what few there were—could now thank Samuel for paving their way. Within hours he had acquired a nickname that translated as something like "Doctor Wolf Hero," and his mate, Ariana, had texted Bran a photograph of his son in wolf form—a huge pile of white fluff—lying on a hospital floor covered in sleeping toddlers.

Thankfully Bran was alone when he received the photo, and would never need to admit to anyone that he teared up at the sight. It was no one else's business how much it meant to him to see his eldest son happy again after so long, after coming so close to losing him. Ariana had done a great deal to help Samuel, and Bran was not about to discount that, but this—Samuel helping people, his _wolf_ helping people—would do more to keep Bran's son centered in his own soul than a mate ever could.

That photo made it onto the front page of several Chinese newspapers and went modestly viral on the internet. Bran had it framed and put on his office wall.

Part 2

"When are you gonna put a framed picture of your other son in your office?"

Anna's voice was not pointed or accusatory; that wasn't Anna's style. Bran looked up from the very peculiar goblin-related paperwork on his desk and watched his daughter-in-law read through the news article under the photo, though he imagined she'd read it before.

"When my other son does something cute," Bran said casually.

"Are you saying I'm not cute?" Anna said instantly. Nothing in her body language changed, but the scent of scorching embarrassment flared across Bran's nose as she realized she'd said that out loud.

"Exactly what type of photo," Bran said very blandly, _not_ laughing, "are you proposing to put in my office, Anna Cornick?"

"Okay, but in all seriousness," Anna said, visibly pushing down her embarrassment, "I wonder if you realize how much you… appear to favor Samuel, at times."

"What do you mean?"

"Samuel gets to wander, drop in and out, chase his dreams, while Charles is all but chained here by your side, doing your dirty work. And I think—he hasn't said this, he never would—but I think he feels he can never have the same bond with you that Samuel does. Samuel came from your old life, before either of you were wolves, you've been together for probably a thousand years, how could Charles compete with that?"

"It's not a competition," Bran said, his brow furrowing, but Anna didn't slow down.

"And nobody wants you to love Samuel less! Maybe it's true that your relationship with him will always be deeper, that's not anyone's fault, but if you could just show a little more affection and recognition for Charles, who has sacrificed so much for you and you don't even have a photo of him in your office—"

Silently, Bran reached for the frame on his desk—the one that faced him, tucked in front of the lamp, not easily visible to anyone on the other side—and turned it around.

Anna stopped dead, staring at the framed photograph of herself and Charles on their wedding day.

"It used to be a shot of Charles at my and Leah's wedding," Bran said. "Very handsome in his tuxedo. I replaced it with this one because he looks so much happier."

Anna's face was red. She touched the edge of the picture for a second, glancing between it and Bran with a slightly watery smile.

"I've made enough of a fool of myself for one day, I think," she said, and turned to go.

"Anna," Bran said, and she stopped, although she didn't have to. Any time Anna obeyed him, it was only because she chose to. He appreciated that, as irritating as it could be. It was good for him.

"I am beyond glad that my son has as fierce an advocate as you," he said. "He deserves you. And you deserve him. Not many could."

Still embarrassed, but no longer bowing under the weight of it, she nodded to him and stepped out the door.

Bran set the photo back in its place, and smiled at the images of both his sons, before turning back to his work.


End file.
